


give me a miracle

by renecdote



Series: hc_bingo 2017 [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bedside Vigil, Coma, Dami needs a hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, tim is a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: “What if…” he hates to even voice it, can’t bear to look up at Drake as he does, but, “What if he does not wake up?”





	give me a miracle

**Author's Note:**

> For the "coma" square on my hurt/comfort bingo card.

When Damian thinks of Richard Grayson, he thinks  _ cheerful _ and  _ love _ and  _ motion _ . He always seems… if not happy, then positive. Always there to wrap Damian in a hug. Always ready to backflip off a building just to prove he can.

Right now, Richard is none of those things. He’s pale and still, hooked up to so many tubes and machines he probably couldn’t move even if he was conscious. It’s not the way his brother is supposed to be and Damian hates it.

He hates it but he’s torturing himself with looking at it because can’t bear to leave his brother’s side. What if he leaves and Richard’s condition changes? What if he wakes up? Or… or… 

“He’s going to wake up,” Drake says and it’s so incredibly wrong that Drake is the one reassuring him that Damian wants to cry on principle. Drake moves closer, close enough to lay a hand on Damian’s shoulder even though he doesn’t (Richard would have). He continues, “Dick’s strong, and he’s stubborn. If anyone can pull through this it’s him.”

“It’s been two days,” Damian says. He hates the way his voice cracks at the end, despair leaking through what was supposed to be a stab at Drake’s grating platitudes. With every day, every  _ hour _ , that passes the chances of Richard making a full recovery dwindle. He’s read the doctor’s notes and the statistics on coma recovery, and now he wishes he hadn’t.

The room blurs when he blinks, moisture catching on his lashes. Damian scrubs a hand over his eyes and squeezes them shut so no more treacherous tears escape. He is hyper conscious of Drake still standing beside him, but he still startles at a sudden pressure on his shoulder. Featherlight, at first, then firmer when Drake squeezes.

“It’s okay to cry,” Drake says quietly. There’s something almost bitter in his tone when he adds a second later, “Hell, it might even help. You know how Dick is when someone he loves is upset.”

It makes Damian snort, faint amusement bubbling in his chest. He is more than familiar with his eldest brother’s tendency to ignore his own injuries or problems in favour of coddling and cheering up someone else. He’s never wanted one of those octopus hugs more than he does right now.

“What if…” he hates to even voice it, can’t bear to look up at Drake as he does, but, “What if he does not wake up?”

Drake is silent for so long that Damian thinks the question is going to be ignored. Father is in denial about anything but a happy outcome, out beating up criminals so he doesn’t have to think too hard about his son lying in a hospital bed. Pennyworth is around, somewhere, probably whispering with Doctor Leslie about alternative medicine and magical cures. Todd had dropped in for less than ten minutes after visiting hours the first night and a string of dead drug dealers has shown up since. Cain is probably lurking nearby, listening for good news she can immediately relay to Gordon and Brown.

“If he doesn’t wake up,” Drake finally says, voice a hoarse whisper. He doesn’t want to voice the possibility either. Damian holds his breath and waits for the reassurance he’d brushed off earlier. It doesn’t come. “I don’t know,” Drake confesses. “I don’t know what we’ll do without him.”

Neither does Damian.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [here](tantalum-cobalt.tumblr.com).


End file.
